‘I’d never call you my friend ever again,’ warned Price.
‘Neither would I.’
‘Calm down, both of you,’ said Leach with a failed attempt at a smile of appeasement. ‘Nothing has been decided. If you want to know the truth, Ruby was in two minds about it and I can guarantee that her parents won’t like the idea all that much either. At the time when it occurred to me, it seemed like a … solution. But,’ he added quickly as he saw Price poised for attack, ‘I can see now that it wouldn’t really solve anything. So why don’t we forget all about it? I promise that
‘Will you swear to that?’ asked Price, standing over him. ‘We don’t want you sneaking off behind our backs and getting married. I know you’re keen to get Ruby into bed but you don’t need to be her husband to do that. Anybody else would have pulled her drawers off before now.’
‘Maybe he already has,’ said Hambridge with a grin.
‘I don’t think so, Fred. He wouldn’t look so desperate if he had.’
‘Enough of your sneers, Mansel,’ said Leach, angering. ‘You’re only jealous because you don’t have a girlfriend. Let’s keep Ruby out of this. The point is that I believe in pacifism as much as any of you. When it’s my turn to face a tribunal, I’ll nail my colours to the mast.’
‘They want you to join the army — not the bloody navy!’
The comment eased the tension at once. They traded a laugh and Price flopped back into his chair. He rented the attic room in an old Victorian house. The minimal warmth from the fire in the grate was countered by a series of draughts that blew in. Hurt that his suggestion had met with such opposition, Leach was consoled by the fact that he’d retained their friendship. Hambridge was pleased that their differences had now been resolved. He hated friction of any sort.
‘Think of Cyril,’ he advised. ‘His death should bring us together, not split us apart. After all, he was the one who showed us what we have in common.’
‘I agree,’ said Leach.
‘We’ve got to ask ourselves what he would have wanted.’
‘There’s an easy answer to that,’ said Price. ‘Cyril would urge us to have the courage of our convictions instead of rushing off to church to get married.’
Leach was upset. ‘Don’t keep on about it, Mansel,’ he complained. ‘I’ve told you that it won’t happen. Anyway, it wouldn’t have been in a church. It would have been in a register office and that wouldn’t have pleased Ruby at all. Instead of thinking about ourselves,’ he went on, ‘we ought to be thinking about Mr Ablatt. He and Cyril were very close. It must be terrible to lose your only child.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Hambridge. ‘I asked Mansel if we ought to call on him but he thought we should wait a bit until the shock wears off a little.’
‘The family will comfort him,’ said Price. ‘Cyril’s aunt and uncle will have been told by now. They’ll rally round. The rest of his relatives live outside London.’
‘Should we send a card or something?’
‘I don’t think so, Fred.’
‘What about you, Gordon? Should we get in touch?’
‘In due course,’ decided Leach after consideration. ‘Mansel is right. This is a family matter. Let them mourn in private.’
Though he lacked his employer’s physique, Percy Fry could work hard for long hours without respite. In the absence of Jack Dalley, he’d done just that at the forge. Lunch had consisted of the gobbled sandwich and the cup of tea that his wife had made for him. He lost count of the customers who came in need of his services and explained Dalley’s absence so many times that it was like reciting a favourite passage from a book. As the working day drew to a close, he began to put everything back in its place before closing up the forge. When the blacksmith finally returned to Bethnal Green, he was full of apologies for his abrupt departure. Fry made light of the pressure he’d been under.
‘Only too glad to help, Jack,’ he said, ‘though I’m still not sure what it’s all about. When the milkman called in, he said there was something in the paper about a murder in Shoreditch. I hope that was nothing to do with your family.’
‘It was, Perce,’ said Dalley, grimly. ‘The victim was my nephew, Cyril.’
‘Blimey! What happened?’
‘They’re still trying to work that out.’
‘Murdered — that’s terrible! I remember Cyril well — came in here from time to time. He was a cocky young devil and I liked him for that.’
Dalley told him all he knew about the crime and how his wife and his brother-in-law had reacted to the news. He warned Fry that he might have to take time off again in the course of the next few days.
‘Do what needs to be done, Jack,’ said Fry. ‘I can manage here.’
‘You must have been rushed off your feet.’
‘Rather be busy than idle.’
‘So would I,’ said Dalley. ‘But what’s going to keep me busy from now on is trying to console Nancy. This has shaken her up. She loved Cyril. My brother-in-law is in pieces, as you can imagine, but Nancy is far worse.’
‘Anything we can do?’
‘Yes — just hold the fort here.’
‘Thinking of Nancy,’ said Fry. ‘Would it help if my wife went to keep her spirits up? Elaine is good at that.’
‘Thanks all the same, Perce, but we’ll be all right.’
‘Offer stays open.’
Dalley gave a nod of gratitude and looked around the forge. He recalled the many occasions when his nephew had visited the place in his younger days. Ablatt had been eager, fresh-faced and uncomplicated. He’d been in awe of his uncle’s skills and developed a love of horses. Education had lured him away from the forge and put ideas into his head with which Dalley took issue. On the occasions when they’d been alone together, they’d had some lively arguments. The blacksmith had always enjoyed their exchanges even though they’d shown the wide gap that had opened up between uncle and nephew.
‘Who were those men who came here?’ asked Fry, washing his hands in a pail of water. ‘I didn’t catch their names.’
‘One of them was Inspector Marmion, who’s in charge of the case. The other was Sergeant Keedy.’
‘Do they have any idea who killed young Cyril?’
‘
‘Oh?’
‘It was someone who took against him because he was a conchie. To be honest,’ confessed Dalley, ‘I went off him a bit myself when he started telling me that war was evil and that it was wrong to bear arms. Well, you heard him sounding off in here a couple of times. What are we supposed to do, I asked him — surrender to the Germans and let them take over the country?’
‘Yes, I remember what he said.’
‘He had a clever answer as usual. Cyril had a clever answer for everything. Even though he was my nephew, there were times when I just wanted to punch him on the nose to bring him to his senses.’
‘P’raps you should have done just that.’
‘Nancy would never have forgiven me.’
‘But it might have saved his life.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
Fry dried his hands on an old towel. ‘How do you feel now?’ he asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘None of my business, of course, but you don’t seem as upset as I’d be if it was my nephew.’ Seeing a flash of anger in the blacksmith’s eyes, he was immediately repentant. ‘Forget I said that, Jack. I take it back.’
Dalley’s ire subsided at once and he became pensive. He thought about the moment when he caught his wife and brother-in-law in a tearful embrace. Grief was visibly devouring them. It troubled Dalley that he could not feel their pain to the same degree and that he remained somewhat detached from it all. In spite of their many disagreements, he liked his nephew and should have been shattered by his death. Because he was not, he was
